On the afternoon of the seventh day of Pesach, I realized that in Eretz Yisrael Pesach was over and they were already eating chametz. Far from being envious, however, I actually felt bad for them. I was more than happy to have one more day of Yom Tov, to say the Yom Tov Kiddush, and enjoy two more meals with my family, and to recite the magnificent words of Hallel and the Yom Tov Sh’moneh Esrei in its beloved tune. The pizza could wait another day. I would much rather be enveloped in the ethereal world of Yom Tov than to rush back into my mundane routine.